Dear Future Children
by Weatherbug02
Summary: "And this might also sound trivial, but I don't think you'd make attractive children." A short rewrite from the scene where Eadlyn imagines her children. Eadlyn/Erik or Eadrik! Oneshot.


" _And this might also sound trivial, but I don't think you'd make attractive children."_

And Dad was right. Looking at his form picture, no matter what combination of my eyes and Julian's nose, or his mouth and my eyebrows, none of it came out… well, attractive. It's not like that's the most important thing, and an heir is an heir, but I'd prefer not to have my child become the laughing stock of Illéa.

I remember a few years ago when I was researching media of the early 21st century when I came across an article of a program where a person takes two pictures and loads them into this software. It blends the images and creates what your future child could look like.

I smirk. Maybe, just maybe, this website software still ran on the palace's exclusive internet hard drive. Not many people have the internet anymore, and those who do don't have much to use it with, but the palace has all of the websites, even those that were shut down, on its hard drive in case we ever needed it. And I think I need it right now.

In a fast-paced walk down the halls of the palace, I go to the sub-one floor storage room that is next door to the movie theater. The guards who were guarding the door nodded to me as I walked through, obviously recognizing who I am. The space was massive. Storage boxes lined the shelves, no doubt containing decorations for holidays and other things that aren't needed right now.

I walk down toward the end of the room and sit at a desk with an older computer sitting there, black-screened and vacant. This isn't the only computer in the palace, but it is the only one that contains all of this information on it.

I search through the computer until I can find the software, and I immediately click on it. "Pick two pictures," the screen says. I scroll through the files until I can find an up-to-date picture of me, and then I get the picture of Julian from his form. It took a minute to process and blend the pictures, but, sure enough, I was right. Our child was hideous. I couldn't help but start snickering at the poor kid. Whoever this Julian marries, I really hope she's prettier than me.

Still smiling, I start everything over and pick another of my candidates. Hale. Our kid wasn't too bad. His eyes with my nose was pretty nice. But it just didn't look right. Though, I can already tell that whoever his child is, they will be the best-dressed in Illéa.

Again, I start over and picking Kile Woodwork. I have to admit, our kid is adorable. His cheeks and my eyes and nose go amazingly together. I can't help the heat rising to my cheeks.

Next, Ean. Well, Ean and I didn't look too terribly as our child. But we didn't look fantastic either. Maybe it's just the fact that I'm starting to not like Ean as much as I used to. Or maybe I just don't see him as that attractive. Whichever, I would rather not have another little Ean running around manipulating everyone for a cookie.

Then came Henri. And I must say our child looks like an angel. It has his blonde hair, my nose, his eyes, and my cheeks, which must be the perfect combination to make the cutest out of all of these. Swendish or not, translator or not, Henri's kid is perfect.

A thought strikes me, and I can't help but wonder what a certain translator would look like with me as a child. I search for pictures of him through magazine articles. There aren't a lot with him, but I found one from the sequence on the _Report_ I gave.

I click "blend" and wait. What am I doing? He's not even in the Selection. But, still. I just can't help but be curious.

It finally loads. And… forget Kile, forget Ean, forget Hale, and, as much a friend he is to me, forget Henri. I would be happy with any of those kids, but Erik—but Eikko—definitely has number one. The baby is gorgeous, and, not to mention, so is its father. It has Erik's blondish hair, my nose, his blue eyes, and my eyebrows. And, God, it's the most perfect kid.

I shake my head and stand from the chair. After clearing out all I've done, I leave the storage room, knowing perfectly well that I'll never look at any of the suitors—and Erik—the same way again.

 **(A/N: Hey, Selectioners! This is my first story in this fandom, and my 10th on FF. I didn't see a lot of Erik/Eadlyn stuff here, so I just figured I might as well write this while I had the idea!**

 **Gosh, I love these books, and I can't believe I have to wait another year to read the next book, but I'm sure it'll be worth it. :D Oh, and I'm Team Translator! Keadlyn's second!**

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **Weatherbug02)**


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